Extraordinary Contains Consulting Detectives
by DoctorMerliena-WestwoodIsCool
Summary: A collection of Johnlock drabbles, full of fluff, tea, hedgehogs and Sherlock being Sherlock. Every reviewer gets a Martin Freeman pocket pet.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Hey guise! So I haven't written any fanfictions since…forever…I've had no inspiration whatsoever so I'm trying to ease my way back by writing my first drabble fic :) Please leave a review it would mean so much to me! This is 100 % Johnlock slash – so if you don't like I would consider leaving…**

**Merliena :)**

* * *

_**chapter notes: Contains fluff – early morning kisses – boyfriends – and tea being left o the table to go cold (I recommend sensitive tea drinkers don't read this, it pained me to write;))**_

* * *

**Chapter One  
Breakfast**

John never usually awoke from his dreams peacefully. But lately, it seemed, that had changed. He awoke in a lazy morning haze, breathing in and inhaling a heavenly scent of what he thought to be bacon. He blinked sleepily, rubbing his eyes like a small child, and yawned widely, looking around for Sherlock. The covers on Sherlock's side of the bed were thrown back, so he had obviously already awoken. For a few minutes he sat there contently, eyes half closed. He hardly wanted to move, but realised that his stomach was growling menacingly at him. John blamed the smell of bacon.

Sighing, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood stiffly up, stretching, and grabbing his green dressing gown. He padded across the short corridor and down the stairs to find Sherlock, who by the sound of it, was in the kitchen. He was standing by the oven, his back to the rest of the flat, holding a very large cookery book in his hand.

"What do you mean add it on afterwards? I've added it now haven't I, you stupid excuse for a cookery book!" Sherlock stated angrily, slamming the book on the counter. He seemed to realise that John was behind him, because he turned and his look softened. "Oh, good morning John." He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed an alien move for the detective, he looked so…_human, _John thought, grinning inwardly.

"Morning, Sherly." He replied, humming cheerfully and grabbing a newspaper that was set on the table. Sherlock winced at the nickname, before sliding over to the kettle to stir what looked like freshly made tea in a mug. He handed it to John, their fingers brushing slightly. "Thanks. What are you doing by the way?" John asked, suddenly realising that Sherlock had not only made him tea, but was _cooking _for him also. Hoping Sherlock hadn't been on something strange, he looked expectantly at his boyfriend for an answer.

"I was…" Sherlock hesitated, another unusual move, "Making you breakfast." He broke out into a grin and pointed to the bacon sizzling on a plate by the cooker.

John smiled pleasantly. "What for?" he asked, taking a swig of his tea.  
"For being John Watson."

A cheesy line, but John found he liked it. He set his tea and newspaper on the table, knowing it would probably go cold, and took a step closer to Sherlock. He took the detective's hands in his, relishing the feel of their fingers lacing together. "I don't normally eat breakfast." John grinned up at him, cursing his shortness. Without another word he leant in and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock's response was almost instant, gently running his fingers over John's palms. John would never get bored of kissing this man. Ever.  
He could feel Sherlock's fingers leave his and wind themselves into his hair and he locked his arms around his neck. He pushed his tongue into Sherlock's impatient mouth, earning a low moan from the detective, and smiled blissfully into the kiss. Just as he was about to break away and tell Sherlock how much he loved him, he realised Sherlock was already pulling away, blinking softly.

He handed John the plate of his made breakfast and John laughed.

Perhaps he'd eat breakfast just this once.

* * *

**Reviews would be lovely – It's a short chapter as a starter:D… More chapters depend on the amount of reviews! God knows how long this fic will continue, we'll just have to see. I have two more chapters planned at the moment but that will probably increase! PLEEASE REVIEW  
LATERZZZ**

**Merliena :)  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Hey there…I don't know why I'm updating a day later I mean probably no one is reading this but I'm bored so writing time. Thank you for everyone who reviewed (Freya yours doesn't count;D) and please review this chapter PLEASE even if it's like one word I need feedback or I will EXPLODE**

* * *

_**Chapter Notes: Contains: punching – "fake" fighting – kissing – people might talk – homosexual goldfish's- etc**_

* * *

**Chapter Two  
Punch you?**

"Punch you?"  
"Yes, punch me, in the face, didn't you hear me?"

John retorted with a witty line, one he was quite proud of actually, and got a fist sandwich as a reward. He stumbled back a couple of steps, then turned to face Sherlock, staring blankly at him. "What, are you expecting me to hit you back?" he asked the detective. Sherlock stared stonily back.  
"Yes." He answered shortly, shaking off the stinging pain on his knuckles.

"Obviously you don't know me well enough." That should get him. Sherlock bit his lip, a motion not noticed by John,no not at all never, and frowned slightly. Perhaps a different approach. The puppy dog eyes.  
"Please, John, I need you to do this for me." He whined like a three year old. John laughed,  
"God, Sherlock, you'll have to do better than that."

Sherlock switched off the puppy dog eyes immediately and sniffed disapprovingly. "You do annoy me sometimes, John, you know that?"  
John shrugged, "Says you."  
Sherlock couldn't argue with that, so instead he reached into John's pocket and seized the doctor's phone. "Hey, what are you-…" he was cut off by Sherlock tapping the keys hurriedly and he craned his neck to see what was being written.

_Hi Gregg – Just wanted to say me and Sherlock are together now!-_

That's all John saw, and all he wanted to see, before he lunged in and clumsily grabbed his mobile in panic. It was all he could do to keep his balance as Sherlock struggled against him and John found himself suddenly trapped between the detective's arms. Trying not to think about whether people would talk, he desperately attempted to prise Sherlock's fingers from the mobile. "Sherlock…stop it… just give me the bloo-…" before he could finish he found that he had managed to grab the phone, and yet was rapidly losing balance. It seemed a blur and mad scramble until finally he fell heavily to the ground. Well…on top of Sherlock more like.

There was a stunned silence. One from Sherlock because of god knows why, John didn't even have time to think about that. Another from John because he had just realised how absolutely beautiful Sherlock's eyes really were. Sherlock, despite the situation, merely stated: "You still haven't punched me, you know."

John snapped back to the present in a flash of realising that he was lying on top of his flatmate (in a way that would probably be perceived as gay to anyone walking past) and momentary anger.

"I don't see why I should punch you."  
"Because I'm an annoying…" Sherlock pretended to think for a moment, "Genius."  
John sighed.  
"You're still lying on top of me, John, if I do recall."  
Cheeks ablaze with embarrassment, John began to shuffle awkwardly off his flatmate, only to be stopped by a pale hand. "You could punch me down here you know." Sherlock stated, his voice sounding a lot lower than before. John shook the thought off.  
"People will talk. In fact, they probably already are talking right now."  
"Good."  
"Sherlock!"  
He tried to free himself from Sherlock's grip, but found that he was stronger than he looked.  
"Let me go."  
"You need to punch me for this case."  
"You're such an idiot. No."

Sherlock was beginning to run out of ideas. Finally thinking of a plan, he decided that lying underneath John meant he could stretch the plan to the limit. He knew John would probably punch him for this. At least...he hoped so. Or was he just doing this because…

He leant up, closer to John's mouth, his breath tickling the doctor's lips. John sucked in his breath, not really taking in the information he was seeing until he felt Sherlock's lips gently touch his. He nearly gasped wildly, but managed to capture it in his throat, so it came out as a breathy noise that he hoped Sherlock hadn't heard.

Of course he had.

Perhaps it was a spur of the moment thing, or because he really wanted to, but John found himself replying to the kiss. Not the reaction Sherlock was looking for, though the detective didn't seem to mind. A feeling was tugging inside John's chest, perhaps it was love, but he couldn't be bothered to think it over. He was too preoccupied with the fact that Sherlock's fingers were weaving their way through his sandy locks in a way that made John shudder with delight. He returned the gesture by tracing Sherlock's cheekbones with his finger nail. Now it was Sherlock's turn to shudder, his eyes flickering. Lost for breath, John broke the kiss momentarily, their deep breaths mingling in the close air between them. Sherlock hummed in contentment. The sound brought John back to thinking levels and his eyes snapped open, pushing himself off the ground and standing up shakily.

What the hell had just happened?

He stared down at the detective, who was still lying on the ground, eyes half closed. The sight angered him and he took hold of Sherlock's hand and yanked him up. "What the fu-.."  
"No need for the language, John. " Sherlock cut short, blinking and smoothing down his coat more confidentially than he felt, though his hand was shaking slightly. Well that plan hadn't worked.

Or had it?

"There is every need for the language, you just…I…we…you just kissed me!" John flailed his arms about wildly, in a way that made Sherlock want to laugh.

"Well observed, John."

John was lost for words. But a thought struck him and he regained his ability to talk. "You did that just to make me punch you didn't you?" he asked, sounding downhearted even to his ears.

"No need to sound so saddened by that."

John realised that Sherlock was right. But he did feel saddened. He had liked that kiss. A lot.

"You can't just kiss people without it meaning something."  
"I have before."  
"God, Sherlock, just…"

There was an awkward pause and John looked to his feet, cheeks growing red. He knew Sherlock was deducing him, realising that John had enjoyed the kiss, but strangely it didn't bother him. "Just punch yourself if you're so desperate." John finally said, shrugging the whole scene off and turning to leave.

Sherlock grabbed his arm. "I never said it was true."  
"What?" John sighed wearily. He wanted to go.  
"That I kissed you to make you punch me."

John gawped like a homosexual goldfish for a second, before trying to answer. "You mean…"

Sherlock turned away, taking out his phone. But John could see the faint blush gracing the detective's cheeks. "Sherlock…"  
Still no answer. In fact, Sherlock was having difficulty finding an answer. It had all happened so quickly that even his brain was struggling to keep up with the scene. John tried to go around the other side, "Sherlock if you're…"  
Sherlock turned away and John quickly followed, "Trying to say…"  
Still Sherlock wouldn't face him. Finally, John grabbed the tall man's arms unwaveringly and forced their eyes to meet and continued: "That you like me…then…"  
"Then what, John?" asked Sherlock, his voice now an octave higher and his face burning bright red. He looked so out of character that John wanted to laugh.

"Then I…I…would be happy to confess that I like you too." John felt like a stammering teenager confessing to their crush, but tried to keep strong. Something on Sherlock's face lit up, but it was hard to capture. John smiled shyly and took hold of his flatmates hand. "But you're not gay." Was all Sherlock could manage.  
"I can be for you."  
"Cheesy."  
"Idiot."

Sherlock couldn't reply to the game of word tennis, because he found John leaning in closer. Meeting him half way, their lips met and the feeling that Sherlock had been craving for the past few minutes came swimming back as John wound his arms around his waist.

They broke apart and Sherlock smiled softly.  
"So?"  
"Yes."  
That was an answer that John managed to understand, and an answer that he was thoroughly pleased with. They broke apart completely and Sherlock began to walk off, rather flustered but happy, realising he had a case to be attending to. Perhaps he could call the case off. "The Woman" didn't seem to be appealing to him at that moment. Probably not for any moment ever again.

John stood in a pleasant shock for a couple of moments, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The text Sherlock had taunted him with was still displayed on the screen. He scrolled through his contacts and found Gregg.

He found himself pressing send.

* * *

**a/n: there we have it! Bit random and probably written to fast and it's still short. But review. If inconvenient… review anyway.  
**


End file.
